


Savage Dragon

by orphan_account



Category: Reservoir Dogs (1992)
Genre: M/M, Not Beta Read, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-02-26
Packaged: 2018-03-15 09:22:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3441866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Flirtation</p>
            </blockquote>





	Savage Dragon

**Author's Note:**

> unbeta'd. Started over the course of weeks, finished in less than an hour. It shows.

“So where are you headed after we get outta this?”

The question knocks all the air out of Freddy’s lungs, like a fist shoved up under his ribcage. It’s too personal, too intimate to be a test but he treats it like one anyway, letting the response fill his mouth until it escapes along with his cigarette smoke.

“What makes you think I’m goin’ anywhere?” He tries to keep it cool, letting the toxins filter out in a steady, unwavering stream.

White takes a moment as well, pulling on his own cigarette til the cherry glows bright before letting the smoke filter out of his nostrils. Freddy thinks if Savage Dragon could breathe fire, he’d do that all the time just because it looked so cool. White’s head lolls over the back of couch, exposing his jugular which bobs slightly as he speaks to the ceiling.

“I’ve been in your apartment for 10 minutes and it looks like that’s about how long it took to move all this shit in here. This ain’t permanent. You’re not foolin’ anybody.” 

The glare he hits Freddy with next makes the poor kid’s heart beat like butterfly wings against his chest but it’s nothing compared to the thrill that runs up his spine when White grins and winks. Joking. Only joking.

“Ya got anything to drink in this dump?”

Freddy places a considering had to his chin. “I think I got some orange juice--”

He’s cut off when White reaches across the space between them and takes a mock swing.

“You know what I mean you little shit!”

He’s laughing as they both go careening backwards. Freddy can’t help but laugh too as he lashes out with a fist to see if he can get the older man to flinch. Something stays his hand and Freddy feels fire where White’s fingers find his wrists and pin them over his head and suddenly neither of them are laughing anymore.

The only thing separating them from being chest-to-chest are Freddy’s knees, which White has thrown his full weight on. Other than that, they’re almost flush against each other. Freddy’s eyes fall on White’s slightly parted lips. They’re both panting and he can smell the Newports on his business partner’s breath.

Reluctantly he tears his gaze away to meet White’s eyes instead. Though different colors, they mirror one another perfectly. White realizes too. There are some things that go beyond the typical locker room bullshit, a lesson Freddy had to learn the hard way.

He turns his face to the side and coughs, shoving back against his captor’s weight. White pulls away almost instantly, but Freddy thinks he can feel fingertips lingering just a moment too long. Maybe that’s what he wants to believe.

“I should go. Joe called me almost an hour ago.”

“Yeah.”

Freddy falls back against the couch and throws both arms over his face when White leaves the room. He doesn’t move for a long time after he hears the front door slam.


End file.
